i really do hate to be a debbie downer. seriously. but often, i don't have a choice. 12-steppers talk about 'acting as if'. meaning act as if you are okay - and you will be.
i have spent over 18 years doing that. well over half of my life. i spend a majority of the time that i'm with other people pretending everything is fine. pretending that i am a productive member of society. pretending that cooking dinner isn't a big deal. pretending that i am not agonizing over every single thing that i say, or think, or do, and how other people may interpret it.
people who are really sick - like super depressed, bipolar, etc - talk about how it's a chore to get out of bed and shower, eat, or get dressed. and i think many 'normal' people think we're exaggerating. we are not. and even if you do get out of bed to eat, bathe, or dress, you then have to CHOOSE what to eat, whether or not to shave your legs, what shirt to put on. and these simple choices are so overwhelming that you may just say fuck it all and go back to bed.
some of us have support systems that will not allow us to act like this. and it's good. if awesome husband has to basically force me to shower, he will. if he literally has to choose a tee shirt for me to put on, he does. and if i simply cannot decide what to eat or cook for dinner, he finds something to make - and then makes it.
i have an appointment with a psychiatrist (finally) tomorrow morning. so i get to spend the crazy person's hour (50 minutes long) trying to explain about what may or may not be obsessive thoughts, suicidal tendencies, a history of drug use and abuse, and run down the list of medications that i've already tried that did not agree with me. and then i'll walk out of that office with a prescription for something that will hopefully help straighten my head out.
i wonder if a therapist and psychiatrist would fight if they met in a dark alleyway. therapists are always telling you that you need to learn how to react to things, how to cope, etc. like it's all my choice about whether or not i'm depressed! but psychs give you medication to treat the chemical imbalance that causes the depression. who's right? am i inherently fucked up - chemically - or am i choosing my depression?
or is it some kind of ridiculous combination of the two? do the meds straighten your head out just enough for you to be able to learn how to cope? i guess we'll find out soon enough - since i decided that i will not be continuing therapy at this point due to financial constraints. so it will just be meds over here - i'll have to try to relearn my healthy coping mechanisms on my own.